My Taboo Harem!

The call came two days later, shattering the fragile tension that had been hanging over everything like a guillotine blade.

Full recovery

The doctors couldn’t explain it. They kept fumbling through medical jargon with wide-eyed disbelief — words like “unprecedented,” “remarkable response,” and the classic “we’ve never seen anything quite like this” tumbling out of their mouths.

But the test results didn’t lie.

Brutal months of slow, merciless deterioration had been violently slammed into reverse since Phei had visited and in just the last forty-eight hours. Muscle function restored. Respiratory capacity normalized.

Every single marker that had been trending downward for nearly a year was now climbing with aggressive enthusiasm, as if the body had suddenly remembered its job and decided to overachieve out of sheer spite.

They called it a miracle.

Diana knew better.

It had been Phei while he smiled, chatted, and pretended with masterful calm that nothing extraordinary was happening. She didn’t understand what he had done or how he had done it, but she understood cause and effect well enough to draw her own dark, unspoken conclusions.

The boy had given something of himself.

And her lady had received it — deeply, completely.

Now the same woman the doctors had quietly begun preparing for a lifetime confined to that bed, unable to walk, sit up, or do anything but slowly fade into nothing — that woman was being discharged today.

For full, inexplicable recovery.

Phei was right there when the paperwork was finally signed.

“I can do this myself, you know,” Mother said, laughing softly as he helped her into the car — one hand steady on her elbow, the other hovering protectively near her back, ready to catch her at the slightest wobble.

She didn’t stumble.

Her legs were steady. Her balance sure. Her body moved with a graceful fluidity it hadn’t known in almost a year.

But Phei wasn’t taking any chances.

“Humor me,” he replied, voice warm yet stubbornly firm.

“You’re fussing again.”

“I’m being careful. There’s a difference.”

“There really isn’t,” she teased, eyes sparkling with that old familiar fire.

He guided her into the back seat anyway, ignoring her protests with the selective deafness only a devoted, overprotective son could perfect. She settled against the plush leather with a contented sigh, shaking her head in that familiar exasperation that had always been her own quiet way of saying I love you.

He closed the door slowly.

But not before sneaking in a quick, warm kiss on her cheek — the kind of simple, boyish gesture that belonged to a much younger Phei and far gentler times.

She laughed, swatting at him through the narrowing gap. “Little monster!”

He was already jogging around to the other side, grinning like an absolute fool, sliding into the seat beside her before she could finish the scold. The door shut with a solid, satisfying thunk. The car settled into a comfortable, peaceful silence broken only by the low hum of luxury.

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

They smiled — soft, private, heavy with everything words could never quite carry.

She leaned closer, and he helped her head find its familiar resting place on his shoulder — exactly the way they had done a thousand times in that cold hospital room. Except now there were no wires snaking from her arms, no monitors beeping their grim countdown in the background, no machines coldly tallying how much longer she had left.

“You know,” she murmured, voice soft and warm against his chest, “I want to savor these small things. They remind me that after so long unable to do anything… I am suddenly, beautifully human once more.”

He had so much he wanted to say.

About the endless years of watching her fade away, the sleepless nights wondering if the next visit would be the last, and the desperate, clawing hope that had lived like a wild thing in his chest since the day they told him she might never walk again. How scared she a single bad movement would take her back to that room.

But instead, he simply nodded.

“Yes, Mother.”

She smiled and patted his head softly — the gentle, knowing gesture. She had long ago learned to read her son’s silences far better than his spoken words.

Diana slid into the driver’s seat with crisp efficiency, adjusting the mirror and checking the instruments. Professional. Calm. The same quiet competence she had shown for years.

“Ready?”

Phei nodded. They both fastened their seatbelts — his mother’s hands moving easily, naturally, without the cruel tremors that had haunted them for months.

Diana started the car.

The engine purred to life — smooth, expensive, the refined growl of machines built by people who understood that true luxury was felt in the ears as much as the eyes.

“You bought a car,” his mother observed, glancing around the opulent interior with raised eyebrows and a hint of amusement. “It’s very nice.”

Phei shook his head. “This isn’t mine, but—”

“So, you borrowed it?”

His eye twitched. “I’ll have you know I’m now one of the richest teenagers in the world. I’m hardly a peasant.”

“Strong words from a boy who still borrows cars,” she shot back, eyes dancing with mischief that had been absent for far too long.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Nothing clever came out.

Diana was already laughing quietly in the driver’s seat, shoulders shaking as she fought — and failed — to keep her professional composure intact.

Phei sighed theatrically. “Fine. The car isn’t mine. But it’s not borrowed—”

“That’s some premium bullshit.”

“Let me finish!”

She waved a hand, still chuckling, her eyes bright with a playful spark that felt like sunlight after endless rain. “Fine, fine. Go on.”

“Yes, the car isn’t mine. Legally.” He paused for dramatic effect. “I bought it in your name.”

Silence.

“You did what now?”

“I have to score some points as your best son! And that starts with buying you proper transportation even though I don’t own one myself.” He placed a hand dramatically over his chest, expression mock-solemn.

“See? I’m selfless. Completely selfless. Don’t you agree, D? I just bought her a luxury car without having one for myself. That’s practically sainthood material.”

Diana nodded enthusiastically from the front. “Extremely selfless, sir. Truly noble. I’m emotionally devastated by your sacrifice.”

His mother shook her head, fighting back laughter. “The only reason Diana is backing you up is because of your looks. All the points you might have scored were completely destroyed by that towering narcissism of yours.”

They all burst into laughter — rich, warm, and healing — the sound spilling out the windows and floating across the hospital parking lot like something precious that had been locked away for far too long and was finally being set gloriously free.

“You just wait,” Phei said, still grinning with wicked delight. “Just you wait.”

Because there was a surprise waiting at home.

After leaving Elena to prepare for their upcoming trip, Phei had come here to do this one final, important thing before he disappeared for the next few days.

Taking Mother home.

Giving her back the life he had quietly prepared with his sudden wealth and Emily’s terrifying efficiency.

With so much money suddenly at his disposal, the best use of it, he had decided, was to spoil the woman who had already lost everything — and make damn sure she was armored and ready for whatever darkness came next.

The love he had carried for Selene had long since grown beyond just the two of them. It had stretched to include her parents — warm dinners at their table, holidays in their home, the slow, deliberate building of a family that had nothing to do with blood and everything to do with fierce, chosen loyalty.

So much so that even after Selene’s passing, they had continued to treat him as their son. And he had continued to treat them as his in-laws.

Even after her father’s sudden death in that cruel accident that left her mother paralyzed, Phei had made sure she was as comfortable as possible in the hospital. He visited whenever he could. Brought fresh flowers. Held her hand through the tears. Told her ridiculous stories just to coax out a laugh.

And he had promised her — promised himself — that he would find a way to fix what had been so viciously broken.

Now he had.

The power had come with a gift that made this possible — watching her laugh freely again, watching her move without pain, watching her truly live — made every single cost that might come after worth every drop of blood and darkness.

It was time to give her back the life she had lost.

She wouldn’t have her daughter back. She wouldn’t have her husband. The holes they had left behind would never be completely filled, no matter how hard anyone tried.

But still.

Small victories.

Small mercies.

And these… these were going to last.